I Can't Help But Love Birds!
by PrussianKnight9
Summary: Deidara, the fearsome terrorist bomber of Akatsuki, had a secret that he swore to himself never to reveal. Unfortunately, Hidan was never one to think before speaking. And it's not like he wanted anybody—particularly Sasori—to care that he hurt, or anything. Rated T for language. Characters strictly belong to Kishimoto Masashi.


**First one-shot. It's rather fast-paced, but then again, I can never seem to write a story with efficient length while simultaneously keep up a good storyline/plot. Ah well, this is just something that was written for fun. Enjoy!**

* * *

As an exiled shinobi with a rather fearsome reputation for dealing with pyrotechnics, Deidara preferred to keep his personal life separate from his work life. Not that there was much of a difference between the two, anyway. One could find him sitting in his room in nothing save a pair of trousers and soft, black socks, pondering upon the different styles in which he could make his bombs detonate; red and flashy, or white and dazzling? However, there were certain aspects within his private life that he would have chosen not to reveal to his fellow members of the Akatsuki. Known for their seemingly forever-imminent thirst for blood and battle, something like this would be very much unappreciated by most eyes within the organization. Or so he thought, and he was most likely correct.

Being the infamous individual known for his extravagant explosions that had wreaked so much havoc within numerous towns, there was no doubting Deidara's love for blowing things up. Nevertheless, if one looked more closely at his art, then they might notice a single recurring thing that would sum up Deidara's secret passion in one clean word:

Birds.

At first, one might scratch their head, confused at this new piece of information. Just what could be wrong with liking birds? Well, first of all, Deidara's appreciation for birds did not stop at simple admiring; he absolutely _adored_ them. And knowing the battle scarred Akatsuki members, they would surely toss him in a sea of ridicule if it got out that the clay artist loved small, feathery woodland creatures. Deidara prided himself in not having revealed this set of data to the others yet, but he could slowly feel his façade breaking. His hands itched to crawl closer to the sparrows perched just above his head in forests; he longed to soar through the skies with the stellar jays that fluttered past his head. It was impossible to ignore such pure beauty; Deidara even thought they were _cute. _When he was sure no one was looking, he would pick at his clay, sculpting tiny baby birds that fitted into his palm before quickly crushing them back to unrecognizable lumps—he would always be sad when it came to this part—in case anyone saw. Once or twice Sasori had caught him staring at a handful of messy clay in his hands with a melancholy look upon his face, and if he had even suspected anything, the redhead never spoke of it. They just sat in the opposite sides of their rooms, doing whatever they needed to do. Deidara sometimes wondered if Sasori had a secret affliction as well; at times like these he wished he was a puppet himself in order to hide his emotions better, like his partner. But then again, Deidara reminded himself, Sasori didn't have any emotions to begin with. So, it was unlikely that the redhead would ever understand the predicament that had plagued him for as long as he could remember.

Unfortunately for Deidara, luck never really turned out to be in his favor. Things took a turn for the worst when somehow, a small word started to spread throughout the organization like a disease, slowly but surely evolving into a fully grown hurricane of destruction. And, one would not expect any sympathy when placed in Deidara's shoes.

~*o*~

Peaceful was the hour, and uneventful the day had started out as. Only after Deidara had decided to step out of the confinements of his rooms and out into the torch-lit hallways was when, as one would delicately put it, shit had hit the fan. His first tormentor was none other than the bane of everyone's existence that called itself Hidan.

"What, un?" Deidara barely spared the lingering man a glance before making his way down the hall. To his dismay, the Jashinist followed.

"So." It was a single word, and yet Deidara could feel the smug sense of superiority rolling off the syllable like melted butter. It also usually meant that he had obtained some new, juicy info that could be used against someone like a sharpened needle.

He decided to humor him, anyway. After all, whatever Hidan knew would probably be some stale news for anyone else. "So what?"

Deidara could feel the Jashinist grinning at the back of his head. "How's~ it goin'?" Hidan chirped happily.

"Not too bad," he replied casually. "Can't say I'm doing better than before I saw you, though."

"Hey, I ain't having none of your shit today, blondie," drawled Hidan, dropping the innocent act like a hot potato. "After all, the day has finally come where you'd want to be blowing up your own ass once you know what I know."

"Allow me to let you know that whatever you know has already been known to I, and many other known people which is everyone else who's smart enough to know the stuff you know only now."

Deidara was sure he had gotten the Jashinist there, because there was a bemused pause as Hidan tried to figure out what he had just said. Unfortunately, it didn't deter him for long, because he kept on going, choosing to ignore Deidara's previous statement.

"Oi, stop trying to act all high and mighty like your pretty lover boy," Hidan snapped. "We have enough stick-up-his-ass guys around here, and I don't want you to join them. Or I will personally shove one of the freak's puppet limbs up your ass; _while he's watching_."

"I honestly don't understand how you will benefit from doing that, you sick bastard," Deidara replied, rolling his eyes. He had gotten used to Hidan's threats. As creative as they were, the Jashinist usually forgot about them within a couple hours. "Why are you stalking me, un?"

"_Because." _Hidan quickened his pace to catch up with the clay artist and soon they were walking side by side. "I've been thinking."

"Now _that's _not something you hear every day, un," Deidara said sarcastically. Hidan growled.

"Shut up! Anyway, there was some shit goin' around that you liked to fuck birds."

Deidara almost walked into a wall. He just managed to avoid having his face flattened against a slab of rock thanks to his sharp reflexes honed by years of training. They rounded the corner, both seemingly calm. However, Deidara was far from as such. He struggled to keep a straight face, only allowing a slight frown take over his brow. "Excuse me, un?" he ground out through gritted teeth.

"Tch!" Hidan let out a huff. "I meant that I heard some weird ass rumor that you liked birds, retard."

"I know what you meant," Deidara said annoyingly. "Where did you hear that, anyway?"

Yes, where indeed. Who could have possibly discovered such a fact about him? Was it merely a lucky guess? A random jab that Hidan picked from his twisted mind which coincidentally happened to land on the mark? If not, and someone had really spread a rumor about him… Deidara could not think of a single person who could've had the chance to find out. Except maybe that Itachi Uchiha, but even Deidara had to admit; the man was not the type to just go start spreading rumors about somebody. Hell, Deidara wasn't sure if he could even talk anymore. Maybe they had cut his tongue off back in his village for being such a bitch.

"How the fuck should I know?" Hidan snapped back. "Look, blondie, I'm just saying. You don't gotta be such a girl about it. It's kind of obvious too, y'know? With all those bird things you fly around on."

"Reason as to why I use a bird for my transportation is obvious, un," Deidara said irritably. "It's less noticeable by others. Who's going to suspect a regular bird flying around over their village, un? And unless you think that a hippo soaring across the horizon is any less conspicuous, I think I'll keep my sculptures as it is."

Hidan snorted. "Smartass bastard," he muttered. "Well, fuck you too. And if you're going for the whole concealment bullshit, I think your boyfriend and his ugly-ass puppet he hides in kind of blows the entire thing."

"Danna and I do it separately, un." They were finally reaching the main entrance of the base.

The Jashinist let out a snicker. "You sure you don't help each other out?" he asked in a taunting voice and suggested he wasn't talking about the same thing as the clay artist.

Deidara rounded on Hidan, thoroughly exasperated. "_Why_ are you following me, un?"

"Just 'cause. I'll see you around, Deidara-chan." With a sneer, Hidan turned and left, just like that. Deidara stood there, dumbfounded.

~*o*~

Once he was outside, Deidara wandered throughout the forest gloomily, feeling like shit after his encounter with Hidan mere minutes ago. Why was it that every time they came across with each other he had to make sure that the blonde was put in misery? Normally it wouldn't hit him so hard, but now, Deidara feared for his reputation. Hidan was not exactly known to keep his mouth shut and it was only a matter of time before his cursed motor mouth blabbered to everyone else in the organization and then it would be all over.

Well, shit.

Deidara stopped and raised his head to look at a couple of birds flying across the sky, soon disappearing into the thick canopy of trees. What would Sasori say to it, anyway? After all, they saw each other the most, and so he might as well be prepared for the verbal onslaught that was sure to come. _What the hell, brat? That is the weirdest thing I've ever heard in my life. Are you sure you're fit to be here? _No, this was Sasori; he wouldn't be that blatant in expressing his incredulity. It'd be more like: _Huh… just don't forget what our mission is because you're too busy crooning at them._

Either way, it would sting. "Stupid birds, un," Deidara muttered, fingering his clay pouch absentmindedly.

~*o*~

"A dragon?" Sasori looked up from his work, to Deidara standing proudly in front of a large, white sculpture of a drake that fluttered its wings. "Where did that come from?"

"Decided to spice things up a bit," said Deidara, shrugging. "After all, they look cooler, un. What do you think?"

"And you're all about style, aren't you," Sasori muttered. "It's fine. Just don't let it get in the way of anything." He turned back to his puppet.

"It's pretty artistic, isn't it?" grinned Deidara, before sealing it away. "It'll be so much better when you're attacking from the air, un. I've got a whole new set of tactics that goes along with it, too. It's my new C2 bomb."

"What happened to your bird design?" Sasori asked tonelessly, still chipping away at the wooden limbs. "I would personally prefer that over this one. It's too flashy."

Deidara stiffened. "Birds are outdated, un," he grumbled. "Too old fashioned. Dragons are the epitome of 'cool'. They breathe fire, Danna! I think it goes with my explosions quite nicely."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Sasori retorted flatly. "Now if that's all, leave me be."

Deidara didn't let Sasori's cold indifference affect him. He was feeling rather accomplished. This way, no one would ever know, nor would they have any proof…

~*o*~

"What!?" Hidan choked on his soup and began to have a coughing fit, bits of food propelling into everyone's plate with dead accuracy. Kakuzu raised a hand and slapped the Jashinist's back once with tremendous force that could knock down a tree, and it was enough to dislodge the piece of tofu in his throat. No one made to express their disgust as this was a daily occurrence.

"Oi, oi, oi!" he cried out once he recovered. "You changed your whole art design, blondie? It's so obvious that you're trying to hide something!"

It was now Deidara's turn to expulse his mouthful of food across the table, spewing his half-chewed rice as if one was broadcasting seeds across a field. "What are you talking about, un!?" he blurted out, hastily wiping the rice residue from the table before anybody commented.

"Come on, don't play dumb," Hidan leered. "Just because I said you loved birds doesn't mean I was gonna tell everyone about—whoops…." He looked around the table where almost every other Akatsuki member was gathered, ears all tuned in. "Sorry, Dei-chan," he said, shrugging, not sounding very sorry at all.

Deidara stared in disbelief. He had worked so hard to keep it secret and this guy ruined it all in a single moment. He'd gone through a lot of work to alter his clay designs. For years he was successful in concealing this embarrassing fact. Stupid, fucking _Hidan. _After all he ever did, it was just destroyed in a single, spontaneously split second and everything was shattered around him. Deidara wanted to crawl under the table as several pairs of eyes swiveled to him, feeling his face burn. Now everyone not only knew of this fresh piece of information, but also of how Deidara tried to hide it like a coward as well. Oh, he was going to wipe that smug grin off that Jashinist bastard's face.

The silence was broken by a loud clatter as Kakuzu threw down his chopsticks with a scowl. "This is disgusting," he growled before getting up to leave.

Deidara didn't know if he was talking about the spoiled food or his weakness for birds, though right now it didn't really matter which one it was. One by one, the rest of the Akatsuki members slowly dispersed, eventually leaving only the clay artist and Hidan at the table. Deidara stared blankly, still unable to recover from the shock.

"Hey, blondie, s'all right," Hidan chuckled, punching Deidara's shoulder. "Next time any of us goes to the pet store, we'll be sure to get you a parrot or somethin'." With those words, he exited the room, still cackling to himself.

Deidara didn't move from the table for a very long time. In fact, he didn't dare take another step closer to the door lest he made eye contact with someone passing by. He didn't know which one was more mortifying; the fact that the rest of the Akatsuki knew of his passion for birds, or the fact that they knew very well of how much effort he put in in order to try and keep it secret, in the end to have it spilled out like nothing over the dining table, similar to any old conversation being tossed around carelessly. He only got up to clear his plates, and returned to sit in his chair and stare away into nothingness, his mind producing all sorts of horrifyingly tragic results for his reputation in which all seemed highly possible to Deidara at the moment.

After what felt like a couple minutes but had actually been several hours later, he heard footsteps approaching this place and he tensed, racking his brain in search for some sort of excuse to make up for his extended stay in the dining room. The door opened and swung away to reveal Sasori, who neither said anything nor reacted upon seeing the clay artist slouched in a chair with a haggard expression on his face. He could only watch warily as the redhead approached the table with his usual, bored expression. "There you are," he said. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Why?" Deidara muttered. "Come to make fun of me for being a wuss?"

"What are you talking about?" Sasori said, annoyed. It then occurred to Deidara that Sasori had not been at the table when the story was blurted out. Deidara doubted that the redhead still hadn't heard of it, though; Hidan could sometimes be a very orderly person and probably made sure no one was left out from this new piece of info. "I just wanted to ask what you've done to our mission scroll."

"Under my futon, un," Deidara replied mechanically.

Sasori thinned his lips. "What is it?" he asked impatiently.

"What is what?"

"You're not acting like yourself."

"Really, un?"

"Deidara, are you sulking?"

The blonde's gaze moved over so that he was able to direct his glare of exasperation at the redhead. "No, of course, not," he said sarcastically. "How could I, when I have probably become the very laughing stock of everyone in this damn base?"

Sasori frowned. "What?"

"Stop acting like you don't know, Danna. It won't make me feel any better. Go ahead, mock me all you want, un."

Sasori did not reply to that. Instead, his head was merely cocked slightly to one side almost curiously, looking as if deep in thought. Deidara sighed and slammed his fists into the table before his head followed suit.

"You didn't change your C2 designs simply because of style, did you," Sasori finally stated after a while.

"They _do_ look cool," Deidara muttered in a weak attempt of protest. "And much more effective. After all, size matters, un."

"You could have just created a bigger bird," Sasori countered lightly.

At the last word, Deidara grimaced and bolted up straight. "Look, Danna, whatever you're trying to say is not helping at all, un. Maybe if you pretended none of this happened, it would be best for everyone else. I don't know how I'm going to shut everyone else up, but can you at least not talk about it? Then that's one less mouth I have to worry about, un."

"Brat, is this going to affect your performance?" Sasori snapped back. He seemed a little irked by the fact that the clay artist had just subtly told him to shut up. "I don't want you slacking off in our next missions just because of a little hurt pride."

"Of course not."

"Then that's all that matters. How you deal with whatever conflict you have is none of my concern." Sasori then turned smartly on his heels and walked away.

Almost as soon as the redhead left, he sensed another presence in the room. Deidara was annoyed that he hadn't noticed it sooner, but now the chakra was no longer hidden and it slowly took form. The blonde made no move to acknowledge them, and even when he knew that they were standing behind him, he didn't move. Leave it to them to use sly tactics to sneak up on people's conversations. The clay artist scowled.

"What do you want, un?" Deidara grunted after a while when no one spoke.

"Not for what you'd expect." Itachi walked around so that he entered Deidara's viewpoint. He stood where Sasori had previously been, his seemingly lifeless eyes cold and black, with no flare of red like before. So he had no intentions of fighting. Well, Deidara was just fine with that, for now.

"They're just birds," Itachi commented after a long break of thick silence.

"Right, un," Deidara said with feigned enthusiasm. "And everyone _just _only heard of this news, which they're probably talking about even up till this moment."

"So?" said Itachi simply. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"'Nothing wrong'?" Deidara stared incredulously at the infuriatingly impassive demeanor. "Well, if someone found out that someone like us, a god damned criminal loving small furry animals and _accidentally_ letting it slip over lunch then what would you do? Huh?" He gave up on trying to deny it altogether. "Do you have any idea how much it destroys a person's pride? Do you even _have _pride, un?" He fumed openly, not caring that anyone saw. "Why did I have to be like this?" he spat angrily at himself.

There was another period of silence, although this time it wasn't as palpable.

"There's nothing wrong with loving something unexpected and seemingly unrealistic to a certain person," Itachi said softly. "Because after all, that's just what love is."

Deidara chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to come up with a nasty reply to that, but couldn't. It felt as though Itachi wasn't just speaking monotonously; it sounded as if it was coming from deep within, as if he understood exactly what Deidara was going through. Well, he didn't. The thought was almost laughable. Why? Because the Uchiha bastard already had such a blessed reputation and nothing he'd do would ruin it. It was like a sculpture made by God, whereas Deidara's own figure was crafted from years and years of torturous labor, only now it threatened to crumble before his eyes any day. No, Itachi didn't know what it was like. For Deidara, having known nothing but pride all these years, felt as if his very life was coming to an end.

"All because of a silly little thing," Itachi said, shrugging. "What are you planning to do?"

"Why do you care, un?" Deidara snapped. "And excuse you, it's not _silly. _Wait a minute, why are you talking to me, un? Why are you even _talking?"_

Itachi gave a small raise of an eyebrow. "If you don't appreciate my being here then I will leave."

"No one asked you to come in the first place, un," Deidara huffed grumpily. He placed his cheek on his palm and glared weakly at the wall.

~*o*~

If no one made fun of him every time they passed Deidara in the hallways, then Hidan fulfilled his role of being equivalent to six other jeering people by himself. As the clay artist sat kneading his clay with chakra, Hidan would randomly pop up and start singing and laughing about "Dei-chan and his Birdy". Face flushed with rage and embarrassment, Deidara had successfully blown up the Jashinist a couple of times, but had to stop when he received a complaint filed to him by an angry Kakuzu saying that he didn't want keep on stitching the bastard back up all the time. If Kisame was in the room, he would chuckle along with Hidan, flashing his dangerously white teeth. To Deidara his laugh was mingled with Hidan's own taunting one and it was infuriating. Itachi would usually leave, and Kakuzu was never around to begin with. Probably locked himself up in his room telling his money stash about 'Deidara's secret adoration', the blonde thought to himself angrily.

Another thing that in truth annoyed Deidara a little more than should have was Sasori's apparent indifference to the situation. He acted as if he was blind and deaf to everything that was going on. Every time Hidan screamed and cackled in his face, Sasori would watch; say nothing, just watch with an almost bored expression. When their eyes met, the redhead would turn away and keep going. Sometimes, he would disappear for hours into his workshop, never appearing until the next day. This routine went on forever. Deidara itched to know what he was thinking. No doubt it wouldn't be much different from what Hidan was broadcasting every time he saw the clay artist. Of course; there was no way he could have expected someone like Sasori, especially, to have understood him. How could he? He was a puppet. They didn't have emotions or feelings. The only thing Sasori was ever passionate about was his own art, and he would never understand how one could love anything else other than their own creations.

~*o*~

It seemed that even the Leader Pain himself enjoyed watched Deidara drown in his misery and suffering, because suddenly there was a drop in mission tasks being handed out. Itachi and Kisame were in and out of the base due to petty assignments because Pain had nothing else better to give them; Deidara hadn't seen Kakuzu once after the day he left the table in a disgusted manner, which was almost a week ago now. To put it simply, he didn't care. What he did want to know was why Hidan didn't disappear with him. With Kakuzu gone, it seemed like the Jashinist needed someone else to bug and was crueler to Deidara more than ever. It was slowly beginning to grate on his nerves, when he woke up to the fifth note stuck on the door to his room in messy handwriting: _Chirp, chirp, wakey time to see the birds singing! _Deidara didn't bother to tell Hidan that you couldn't possibly _see _birds sing. To the blonde it felt as though the Jashinist had all of a sudden acquired teleporting powers, because that could be the only explanation as to how often they crossed paths in a single day.

Today was just like any other day as Deidara stumbled into his rooms, slamming the door shut behind him and slumped haggardly on his futon with a sigh. If it wasn't for Hidan, the situation wouldn't have been that bad. Too bad that his voice was loud enough for everyone in the base to be able to hear, no matter what you were doing. Deidara leaned against the wall for support, gazing over the empty room. He was never one to go crying to someone for advice, but having to deal with this alone was making him feel lonelier than ever. He dropped his arms down his sides tiredly.

Deidara blinked when his hand hit something with a soft 'thud'. Startled, he looked down to see what the thing was. It was a wooden box a little bigger than the size of his hand, neatly wrapped in brown paper. The blonde picked it up cautiously, annoyed at himself for failing to notice it when he first entered the room, because he was so wrapped up in self-pity. Eventually, curiosity got the better of him, and seeing as it didn't look dangerous, he tore the paper and unveiled a rough, wooden surface that looked as though it was hastily made. Bemused, Deidara opened the lid to see the contents and he gasped.

Inside sat three little intricately carved wooden birds, all engraved with every little painstaking detail a bird could ever have. Deidara carefully picked up the biggest one of them all, the mother of the two baby birds, he assumed, and stared at it in awe. It felt as if it was about to spring to life any moment. The wood was smooth, creamy, and flawless, with nothing out of place. There was only one person in the entire world that could create such beautiful woodwork.

Something fluttered into his lap, and he saw a note he hadn't noticed before sitting innocently, waiting to be read. He picked it up, eyes scoring over the familiar handwriting.

_Cheer up, you moody brat. _

~*o*~

Sasori returned at a late hour that night, no doubt having planned to wait until he thought Deidara had gone to sleep so he could avoid embarrassing confrontation. However, the redhead was in for a surprise when the door creaked open and he tiptoed in, for Deidara had launched himself up from his spot as soon as he heard him enter. In the darkness, a single 'oof' sounded from Sasori's surprised lips as Deidara had pulled the redhead into his first, embracing hug he had ever shared with anyone else in his entire life.

* * *

**Don't worry, I love Hidan; I really do. But at the same time, I love writing about him and his asshole-ness, because it's just so... him. xD It's not because I'm bashing him, though. :P**

**Like? Love? Hate? Please tell me what you think; your reviews will be greatly appreciated! :)**


End file.
